


I Love You No Matter What

by Bennyhatter



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Violence, Original work - Freeform, Supernatural Elements, True Love, Vampiric character, human/bat hybrid, medieval setting, mentions of blood drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 19:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11630661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bennyhatter/pseuds/Bennyhatter
Summary: Fleur has lived in his abandoned cathedral since the day he left his mother's nest. It's his territory; his lonely little hideaway that protects him from the sunlight and the judgement of humanity.The only spot of sunlight in his dark world, is Amet.





	I Love You No Matter What

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kittysaurus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittysaurus/gifts), [FandomLifeTookMyHandAndSaidRUN](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomLifeTookMyHandAndSaidRUN/gifts).



> I don't know ya'll I was watching movies last night and got weirdly inspired by Hotel Transylvania of all things, and then this happened and I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I've been gone for a while and I'm sorry for that. Probably should have tried to come back with something better than this to start, but here we have it. I have to thank kuza, kittysaurus and fandomlifetookmyhandandsaidRUN for encouraging me to post this, because apparently I've lost all my self-esteem and I'm nothing but a bottle of nerves when it comes to posting anything not Rickyl anymore.

He stretches with a yawn, jaw cracking and fangs gleaming in the wisps of fading light that spill through the gap of his winged cocoon. He lets go of his support beam and drops, twisting in midair and unfurling his leathery wings with a dry rasp to slow his descent. It's a fair distance to the ruined floor but he's not the tallest creature around, so it's easy enough to catch a draft and circle slowly to the ground.

Clawed paws scrape over broken tile, kicking up plumes of dust and knocking broken bits of stone and debris away when he lands in a crouch. He stands to his fullest height, hunched shoulders rotating as he stretches his wings and shakes away the last clinging fog of slumber. As the last of the daylight recedes and darkness creeps across the floor, he lifts his head and looks at the heavy moon with milky silver eyes; wide nostrils flaring when he breathes in deeply before letting the air out of his lungs on a heavy sigh.

There's a faint knock at the decaying door and his ears perk, twitching to catch the quiet shuffling of footsteps and the quick, eager heartbeat of the man waiting for permission.

“You came back,” he whispers, the words twisted and hoarse - vocalizations forced from a throat unused to human speech patterns. He says it every night they meet with the same awe and fear thrumming through his damned veins.

“I'll always return to you,” his companion says with gentle humor, pushing the door open when he hears the trilling squeak he long ago learned was meant as a welcome. The creature watches him approach with anticipation, eerie eyes glowing as he takes in the sight of the human walking across the abandoned cathedral with sure, steady strides.

Once, long ago, it was a terrified boy scrambling over broken pews - cutting his hands and knees on jagged wood and stone and crying out in pain and fear as rabid wolves snarled and snapped at his bare, dirty heels. His fear had roused the monster slumbering deep within the bowels of the crumbling structure. Barely a fledgling old enough to be on his own, he'd none the less come to the aid of the screaming child. He'd torn the wolves apart and drank deeply from their cooling corpses, slick with blood and gore and barely aware of his audience until the boy had let out a sob and hugged one of his wings so tightly he'd thought it would crack. He'd had no fear of the monster who'd saved his life, not once, and it had been as unusual as it had been curious. But his life had been empty since he'd flown away from the warm nest he'd grown up in, and he was lonely. If the child was insane enough to stay, he wasn't going to do anything to drive him away. Not if it meant he'd have a friend who wouldn't scream at the sight of him. Not if the boy wasn't to become warm prey dying beneath his bloody claws.

That was a long, long time ago. Now it's a man who walks toward him, tall and broad and almost ethereal in the moonlight. He's grown from a dirty, terrified boy into a strong, brave man; a soldier for his king's army who never fails to come each night he's able to do so. Sometimes they don't meet for months and the creature fears his friend is gone. But then one night he'll hear the knock and taste musk and sunlight on the night air and his blackened heart will beat with warm excitement.

He thinks this is what love is meant to feel like, although he's never experienced it aside from the affection of his mother. Amet is otherworldly in the moonlight, his dark hair bleached silver and his green eyes the same pale color as the creature watching him with so much longing.

“You're wounded,” he whispers, the scent of blood registering like an afterthought that has him stretching a wing out, his bony finger-claws curling in distress as he zeros in on the injury. “You came here bleeding, Amet. You know you shouldn't-”

“I trust you, Fleur,” Amet says, the name his brave knight gifted him ringing in his oversized ears like a soothing balm. Gentle fingers wrap carefully around his, minding his fragile bones, and he squeaks when he's pulled into strong arms and enveloped in a blanket of scent and safety unlike any he's ever felt outside of these meetings.

Amet is strong and brave and everything he's never been. He never even had a name until a shivering child dubbed him Fleur - the most grotesque flower any might ever lay eyes on, but a name he cherished because someone cared enough to even want to give it to him.

A warm hand cups his cool cheek - a taste of the sunlight he's forced to hide from until the day he embraces his death. He knows that will be the day Amet leaves him, whether by his own choice - which is honestly the most likely alternative - or old age. On that day, he will wait for the sunrise and walk into the day with his wings spread wide to feel the fire engulf every inch of his disgusting body.

“Hey now, none of that,” Amet scolds quietly, drawing his attention back to the radiance looking down at him with gentle, worried eyes. “None of those thoughts, Fleur,” he says again a little more firmly. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“You'll have a wife one day,” he says despondently, looking away even though he feels a physical pain beneath his narrow ribcage from doing so. He ends up staring at a large, muscled bicep instead and chews at his lip with sharp fangs.

The height difference between them is so vast; he can tuck his head against Amet’s chest and press his nose beneath one well-defined collarbone; his wispy hair doesn't even touch the underside of the human’s chin.

“Children,” he adds after a moment of morose thought. “Grandchildren. You'll have no need for a beast like me as a friend.”

Gentle fingers grip his chin, turning his head back until he's caught by those beautiful, compassionate eyes again. “Nothing lasts forever,” he whispers.

“Love does,” Amet replies softly, and the words strike him like a bolt of warmth and a crackle of searing pain that makes him shiver and burn and close his eyes tightly. He shakes his head and chokes out a garbled sound, something torn between human and monster but never settling on one. It's impossible for something like him, a natural mutation of both - a hybrid of human and bat with eyes that are too large and a blunt muzzle with a wet nose and large nostrils; a body that's a grotesque mixture of bat and man with ugly, coarse fur and hands or feet that are far from human. He's something that doesn't belong in the natural world, a monster that lives on blood and raw flesh and clings to the shadows where he belongs. Amet is the only human who has seen him and lived, and if that's not an expression of true love then he doesn't know what is.

That doesn't mean that love will be reciprocated. Monsters like him don't get that kind of happy ending.

“You lie,” he hisses, but there was no flutter in the man's steady heartbeat; no sour tinge to his scent to prove he's not speaking the truth. Even so, it's impossible. Someone like Amet, a noble fighter destined for greater things, could never love a grotesque flower like him.

“You know I don't,” his valiant knight counters, and he brings his other hand up; cradling a monster's face and sweeping calloused thumbs tenderly across short, coarse fur beneath wide, shining eyes.

“You have to,” he whispers, but Amet shakes his head and then dry, chapped lips brush so gently against his own; careful of his fangs but unafraid as he wraps Fleur up in arms strong enough to heft shields and win wars. Cradles him as gently as a babe and strokes up the joint of one wing until it trembles against his fingertips and the monster -  _ Fleur _ \- mewls into his knight's mouth as a heat that could rival the sun unfurls in his chest like the blossoming of new life.

Is this what love truly feels like? Death and rebirth simultaneously in a constant loop? It feels like bright sunshine and full, glorious moons and the victory of a kill. It's joy and elation and  _ hunger _ that has him wrapping his wings around the man he'd met when they were both so young and uncertain. The man who has grown with him, protected him, and who  _ loves him _ even despite his deformities - and also because of them.

“My Amet,” he murmurs against lips warmed by his breath, shuddering at the possessive delight the words stir deep inside of him.

“My Fleur,” Amet groans back, just as possessive and arguably more proud as he presses kisses to Fleur’s cheeks and his muzzle and each thin, trembling ear. “My gorgeous flower. Mine always.”

“Always,” Fleur agrees -  _ promises _ \- as the moonlight kisses their intertwined forms and makes it impossible to distinguish man from monster.


End file.
